


Holding On To Your Soul

by akane171



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Some angst, filling the gaps, season 2 headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2020-08-13 01:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akane171/pseuds/akane171
Summary: To the world, she was Supergirl, The Girl of Steel, The Last Daughter of Krypton, CatCo’s reporter. To the world he was the Daxamite Prince, Mike Matthews, the best barkeep in National City, Supergirl’s ally. But within the walls of her loft they were just Kara and Mon-El. And for them, that was enough. //Season 2 Karamel fluffy short stories.





	1. Ticklish

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks for my amazing beta zrnas, love you <3  
Once upon a time it was a fucking one shot. Well, not anymore, lol.  
Inspired by Your Soul by RHODES.

Waking up to a smell of coffee, made by her unexpected-but-welcome-as-hell-hot-boyfriend, was her favorite way of waking up on Sundays. 

You could have asked, why was it not waking up to the smell of pancakes or bacon, but Kara had an answer to that: the smell of pancakes and bacon meant the breakfast was already prepared. 

And Kara was a simple girl and she loved watching her boyfriend making food. Yep, totally only that. 

J’onn, if he had been able to read Kryptonian’s minds, would have coughed awkwardly and said something about her little obsession about watching someone’s backside.

_ Uhm, where was she…? _

Kara loved watching the WHOLE Mon-El, wearing his yellow “Kiss the cook” apron she’d bought for him some time ago.

The way he was giving his full attention to the ingredients that were always organized on saucers and containers like a little army, ready to be thrown into a pot. Focusing with furrowed brows on the vegetables, cutting identical slices and dices, like he’s been using a ruler. His natural, gracious moves around the kitchen, when, without even looking, grabbed cookware, seasoning or coconut oil. His quiet, happy hummings of Daxamite songs, if the dishes he was preparing looked perfectly, like on pics from food and cooking blogs. The way he exposed his back and swayed his hips while stirring in the pot - she was almost sure he was smirking while doing it, totally aware that she was drooling on the table.

(Did you hear that? That was J’onn coughing in the distance).

Mon-El from Daxam absolutely owned her kitchen in his calm, not invasive and relaxed way, like he was born to become a chef and she was incredibly grateful for that.

Sometimes, she wondered what kind of a man he would have become, if he had been born on a different planet, in a different family. 

But did it really matter? 

No, this Mon-El was the man for  _ her _ , the one that Rao has sent to Kara Zor El, like a Space Sleeping Beauty (and hey!, she had a cape and she could totally fit the Prince Charming’s shoes!). Kara wanted  _ him _ , no one else. Her intimidating, happy go lucky, funny, incredibly skilled in a kitchen and in a bed boyfriend…

_ Uhm, where was she…? _

Lying on her side, Kara slowly opened her eyes. 

He was sitting beside her, resting his (glorious) back on the wall, with Lord of The Rings on his lap and a mug in his hand (with a cute labrador puppy printed on it - another gift from her, did she mention that she loved buying him stuff? No?) filled with (Kara sniffed the air) green tea.

_ Yuck _ .

Kara grimaced, remembering that one dreadful morning, when he showed his mug into her sleepy hand and cheerfully informed her it was something much, much better than coffee. 

Without thinking she took a sip, expecting hot chocolate. When the horrible, bitter green poison hit her taste buds she spat it right back into his mug.

That was the first time in their short but very active relationship, when Mon-El was not amused by her actions. Not. At. All.

But well, for sure it woken her up better than coffee...

The second time when he became fully offended, was during their first cooking-dates. Right after she threw a tomato at him.

The red vegetable splashed on his shirt (oops, the super strength). Mon-El blinked, looked at the stain, slowly raised his head and pierced her with a very disappointed and offended gaze. And then he explained with a cold voice that she wasted a perfectly ripped certified organic tomato from the best plantation in California. And explained in detail how wasting food and natural resources was bad for the environment and as a Krypotnian - she should have known that.

Kara felt like being lectured by a biology professor from her high school. In the end she humbly promised she was not going to waste more food in the future. And she really meant it.

Too bad they BOTH wasted some food during another date when-

_ Uhm, where was she...? _

“How’re the hobbits?” she rubbed her eyes and yawned loudly.

“When I think about it, they remind me of you.” He said seriously.

Kara stopped yawning in the middle and looked at him with furrowed brows.

“You mean I have hairy, smelly big feet and I’m a glutton?” She felt her brows slowly rising and almost meeting her hairline.

“What?” he blinked and looked at her confusedly. “No! Like them, you appreciate good meal! Your feet are perfect! And-” he started frantically praising her body parts and Kara just had to smile. 

She leaned into Mon-El and kissed him slowly and sweetly. 

The tea in his mug swayed dangerously. 

“Oops, we don’t want to kill the mood and waste the tea, hmm?” she mumbled, took the mug from his hand and placed it on a bedside table.

“Mhmmm?” he asked totally dazed, chasing her lips.

With a Kryptonian satisfaction she proudly noticed a small hill that appeared near the area of his covered with blanket hips.

_ Ha! She, Kara Zor El the prudish Kryptonian, did this! _

“Mhmmm?” again, Mon-El mumbled very intelligently.

“Remember the pizza?” she said and smirked when his eyes widened.

Yep.  _ The pizza _ . 

The other time when they decided to combine a date with preparing homemade food. The problem was, that they were both a  _ little  _ more interested in each other than in the most famous Italian dish. Somehow, they managed to put it into the oven and then, rather quickly, they moved to the bedroom. 

And when Kara was so, SO close to uhm, you know exactly to  _ what _ , suddenly Mon-El lifted his head from between her legs, sniffed the air, his eyes widening like saucers as he squeeked, “PIZZA!” and ran to the kitchen with superspeed, almost tripping on his pants that were lying tangled on the floor. 

Leaving behind a sweaty Kara, with slightly raised hips and her mouth wide open. 

Did she feel offended? As hell! But then he started panicking rather loudly in the kitchen:

“Oh, my fucking Rao! Kara, cheese almost got burnt and it’s crispy! And nooooooo, tomatoes! My precious Californian tomatoes! GRIFE!”

Kara had started laughing so hard that she finally fell from the bed.

“But we are not preparing food?” he said lowly, with that special Mon-Elish glint in his gray eyes that promised her something amazing.

Her stomach has had some different plans, tho.

They both blinked when it grumbled rather loudly.

“Are you sure you don’t have a lion there?” Mon-El asked seriously, looking at her stomach, hidden under one of his t-shirts she loved to wear to sleep.

“Yes, and it’s hungry for pancakes,” she said sweetly. “You better feed it or...”

“Or what?” 

“Or it will make you sleep on the couch?”

“Sometimes, I think you keep me here only because I cook for you,” he pouted.

“And for sex. Let’s not forget about sex,” she smiled but froze when a shadow clouded over his gaze for a second.

Like he really believed what she’d said.

They really needed to talk about his self-esteem super soon, because on moments like this one, she was almost sure he thought he was not good enough for her. 

What was absolutely ridiculous. 

But before she could have apologized, he sneaked his hands under Kara’s shirt (well, technically  _ his _ ) and it was her time to squeak.

Kryptonians on Earth were immune to punches, kicks, bullets, hell!, even to rockets. But for some reason they were not immune to Daxamites’ hands tickling them mercilessly. 

The first time, when Mon-El had done it, she almost died from laughter. How many years she has spent on Earth, not really feeling the touches humans were giving her? 

And then, the former Prince(ss) of Daxam who fell from the sky, gave her something no one else could - an overwhelming feeling of normality.

Too bad Daxamites were immune to Kryptonian tickling. But well, cold Kryptonian feet, sneaked under the covers and laid flat on naked Daxamites’ chests (or asses) worked almost as good as tickling. Few of Kara’s neighbours, woken in the middle of the night by an extraordinary Daxamite scream, could confirm that.

They were lying on the bed, limbs tangled, Mon-El on top of Kara, who was panting and giggling almost hystercially.

And then her stomach grumbled again.

Mon-El sighed heavily and hid his face in the crook of her neck.

“Pancakes?” he moaned with a defeated voice.

“Yes, please,” Kara hiccuped and laughed again.

“Want to join me?”

“In a minute,” she kissed the tip of his nose and watched him leave.

Then she chuckled and spread her limbs on the bed, feeling incredibly happy and fulfilled.

Caresing softly a still warm side of his bed, she decided that she didn’t want to wake up in an empty bed ever again. 

And then she smiled broadly when she heard him humming hakuna matata, while cracking eggs and mixing them with flour and milk.

Kara slowly got up and went to the kitchen with a strong resolution to allow him to make the pancakes.

While looking at his glorious ass, of course.


	2. A bubble bath for two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kara and Mon-El may or may not destroy some bathroom stuff. Accidentally, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big hugs for my amazing beta zrnas.  
Requested by my fellow karamel shipper from twitter - Cassie. Hope you are going to like it and sorry for a looooong wait.

Kara sighed contently with her eyes closed and sank her body a little deeper into the hot water.

Was there anything better than a relaxing bath after a stressful day at work? After your snappish balding boss complained about every single line of your article? The article you were so proud of? The article you needed to completely rewrite while nervously taking glimpses at the ticking clock?

Well, yes. There was something better than a hot bath after a horrible day at work.

It was a hot bath with thick pearl white foam that smelled like vanilla, sunflower petals floating in the hot water, and candles scattered around the bathroom - all of this prepared by your handsome boyfriend. 

Somehow, during her busy day she sent Mon-El a message containing a lot of sad emojis and informing him that she was going to be late and that he should not wait up with supper for her.

But when she opened the door to her loft, she was greeted with Mon-El’s kiss. He took her coat off and dragged her into the bathroom where the bath was waiting for her. Then he helped her strip, taking off her shirt; the water wasn’t the only thing in the bathroom that was hot, and then her traitorous stomach grumbled. 

Mon-El kissed her again, said he needed to put the vegetables into the oven, and superspeeded out from the bathroom. Leaving Kara, who was chasing his lips that weren’t there anymore, with hands awkwardly raised and her pants slowly slipping down her legs, behind.

She blinked and considered running after him but well, it was a shame to waste such an amazing bath and she could always catch him later. 

Kara opened her eyes and smiled.

Because that  _ later  _ happened much earlier than she expected. 

Right after she sank into the water and took a sip of wine (yes, he prepared that too) he came back with devilious smile on his face.

“You know, I checked some clips on youtube and now I know what a strip club is,” he said tearing, TEARING! off his t-shirt, revealing his chest which was weirdly glowing in the candlelight.

Kara almost choked to death on her wine and then shrieked, delighted (she blamed the wine Mon-El has bought).

He didn’t need encouragement, so he started dancing while humming some ridiculous song, proving that, yes, he definitely knew what he was doing.

Thank Rao she tore off that infamous page from the leaflet about jobs in National City she gave him some time ago. Because otherwise she would have had to murder a lot of people who couldn’t keep their hands off of her talented boyfriend.

How did Kara manage to keep her hands off him at that moment? Well, shit liked to happen.

That’s why, right before the uhm,  _ grand finale  _ of his performance, he slipped and fell down on his face, taking a shelf he’d grabbed trying regain his balance along with him, as it just broke thanks to his super strength. Kara’s cosmetics spilled all over the bathroom.

Was there anything that killed the mood better than the sight of your almost completely naked boyfriend, lying on the floor, moaning, covered in your pads and ear sticks, with his glorious ass sticking out, and toothpaste smeared all over his hair? Kara wasn’t sure, but she laughed so hard she almost drowned, and did accidentally inhale some of the foam. 

Anyway, in the end he unashamedly took off his briefs and slipped into the tub. Well, after Kara hung one leg over the edge of the tub and pulled the other to her chest, he managed to fit in and sit with his bent knees comically sticking out from the foam. 

Kara decided that they needed a bigger tub. Maybe something made from n-metal. 

For science.

And now they were sitting in comfortable silence, waiting for the Winter Vegetable Bake. He was reading The Lord Of The Rings, she was sipping her wine and thinking about how the old Kara would have reacted to the fact her future self was sharing the tub with a naked ex Daxamite prince and the infamous frat boy of the universe.

_ She probably would have gotten a heart attack or awkwardly laughed and thought about James or Adam _ , Kara thought while checking the water that was growing cooler.

And then she would have blushed, made some disgusted faces and denied that something like that could have happened. 

_ How things have changed _ , she smiled and heated water with her heat vision. A little too much, because it basically boiled.

_ Oops _ .

She glanced at Mon-El who didn’t seem to notice.

What would have happened if James, or Adam, or any other human male had sat with her right now?

Kara snorted at the thought, imagining a boiled crab. She opened her mouth to share it with Mon-El, but he was checking something on his phone with furrowed brows and a serious expression on his face.

He silently moved his lips, like he was repeating a word and then looked at the book he was holding. After a second his face lit up and he put the phone away.

_ Checking the meaning of a word, huh? _ She was sure he was going to mark the page and write the meaning of the word later, like he did in her copy of Harry Potter. She was not amused and they had a very serious talk about barbarians scribbling in the books. 

But, if it was his way to learn and adapt, then why not? The next time she visited a bookstore she bought him The Lord Of The Rings and Romeo and Juliet. 

The look of absolute delight that appeared on his face when she handed him the books warmed her heart every time she remembered it. 

On the other hand, the horrified look on his face when he opened Romeo and Juliet and read the first few lines was going to make her laugh forever. She predicted he was going to scribble a lot in his copy. 

If he ever read it.

But… wasn’t it a little disrespectful to her, for him to totally ignore her? She was naked. He was naked. It was basic mathematics, right?

Maybe she wasn’t the best seducer and her flirting skills were rusty but even she knew that nakedness plus hot water and tub usually equalled some action, right?

So, in a seductive way, she put her feet on his exposed and still sparkling chest (seriously, she needed to remember to ask him why he used glitter later, she hoped it was not because they watched Twilight not so long ago...).

Mon-El absently put his hand on her feet and, yes!, slowly caressed her calf, massaged her knee and went higher, YES!, touching her thigh under the water-

Then he pulled his hand back, flicked it and turned a page.

Kara squeezed her eyes and puffed her cheeks out like a hamster.

“Interesting part?” she asked sarcastically and scratched his chest with her toes.

“Well, they are walking,” he answered, not tearing his eyes from the pages.

_ Walking _ .

“Exciting.” She clicked her tongue.

“Mhm.”

_ Oh, really, mister Daxamite?  _

Kara gathered some of the foam into her hands blew at it.

She wanted to do it gently. She wanted to do it in a playful way so he would finally notice her.

But, well, she maybe used a little too much strength to do it. And maybe, don’t ask her how, she used her freeze breath.

The foam froze into a ball in a millisecond and hit his forehead. Hard.

_ Oops _ .

He blinked, finally - yes! a success! - raised his head and looked at her dumbfoundedly.

“What was that?” he asked confusedly, because he definetly imagined that a ball of something cold as fuck hit his head, right?

“Nothing,” she smiled awkwardly and he raised his brows looking at the place between her eyes. 

_ Damned crinkle! _

“I’m just bored,” she blurted out before he could say something. “And hungry.” She suggestively (she hoped) bit her lip. 

She couldn’t have been more obvious, right?

“Food should be ready in 10 minutes,” Mon-El smiled and returned to his book.

And Kara started to regret her life choices. More specifically, introducing him to fantasy literature.

Ok, so she needed to tame her Kryptonian self a little and try to be more like a Daxamite.

Kara slowly raised her right foot, put it under his chin and lifted his head. When their eyes met, she smiled, because hell yes, she had his full attention now.

Mon-El’s eyes darkened when he finally realized what she was trying to do. 

The book landed on the floor unceremoniously .

But of course, he had to tease her.

“Bored and hungry? Seriously, Kara?” he grinned and caressed her foot, sending shivers down her spine.

She rolled her eyes. “What? I’m new at it, I thought your more advanced ass would have taken an obvious hint.”

“Obvious hint, hmm?” he kissed her ankle. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier to just say, hey, Mon-El, let’s have sex?”

“The last time you had no problems with hints!”

“The last time when you said you were going to marry Mxy or the last time when-”

She growled, grabbed the edges of the tub and tried to sit up.

It seemed that the only way to shut this Daxamite up and make him do stuff she desired was either killing or kissing him and the first one was definitely not an option.

But, well, her hands were wet and the edges were slick with the foam.

Kara lost her hold and fell back with a yelp, splashing water all over the bathroom. She also hit the bottom of the tub with her elbows, cracking it and making holes in it.

_ Oops _ .

“Are you ok?” he helped her sit up and pulled her into his lap.

“We need a new tub,” she sighed looking at the water flooding the bathroom.

“This time maybe made from nth-metal?” he joked and she laughed, remembering her own previous thoughts.

“I bet you didn’t have problems like that on Daxam,” she brushed the hair from his forehead.

“Like destroying my tub?”

“No, I mean, I bet you didn’t have accidents in the tub while having sex with hot people.”

She meant it as a joke. She said it with a teasing voice and a spark in her eyes.

But his face froze and something she didn’t know how to read appeared in his eyes. 

Was it shame? Or fear? Uncertainty? That she was going to mention his past, now and in the future, in the most unexpected moments? That she was going to judge him for his old life?

Would she be able to convince him that it really didn’t matter to her anymore?

Well, they had time. Living under the yellow sun, they had their forever ahead of them.

She leaned her head back a little and then bumped his forehead with hers, their noses crushed.

“Owie!” he gasped surprised.

If he had been Adam or James, his broken into a million pieces nose would have said  _ hello!  _ to his brain cells. Fortunately, he was her own special Daxamite who could be tortured by her a little.

“Ha! So you did break something? I just hope the girl was not hotter than me,” she pouted and hoped he was going to understand.

He did. Slowly, a mischievous spark returned to his eyes.

“Girl? Nah, but the son of the Esdarian’s ambassador? The one with the cutest dimples in the universe? Too bad no one made a hologram of the destroyed tiles.”

Kara laughed and he soon followed her. 

Some time after, she found herself still sitting on his lap, with her head on his shoulder and eyes closed. His hand was playing with her hair, sunflower petals sticking to his wet skin that smelled like her vanilla bubble bath.

Smelled like her.

“I would exchange any tub in the palace or any tub in the universe for this one in a second,” Kara heard him whispering so quietly, she almost missed it. “Because in this one, I’m with you.”

Was that silly, warm, overwhelming feeling that was bubbling in her chest normal? Was this how people felt while being in a happy relationship? Comfortable, safe, perfectly normal? Gosh, she could really get used to it. She could stay like that with him forever.

But well, life showed that Murphy’s Law didn’t only affect humans.

A loud knocking and screaming burst their little bubble of joy.

Kara growled.

“It’s Mrs. Jenkins.”

“Erm, that lady who lives right under your loft and complains about us being loud every time she sees you?”

“Yes, I guess we accidentally flooded her apartment this time,” Kara sighed and looked at him with furrowed brows. “Go and deal with her.”

“What? Why me?!”

“Because she hates me and flirts with you every time she sees you,” Kara rolled her eyes, hopped off him and started to put some clothes on her. 

“She’s ninety years old! And absolutely not my type!” he got up too but didn’t to put on clothes, his chest still wet and glittering. 

_ What a goddamned waste _ , Kara thought sadly.

“And has nastier character than Miss Grant. Just go, use your charm and make her go away,” she grabbed his pants from the floor and showed them into his hands.

“But-”

Kara decided to use her ultimate weapon - the comets.

She looked deeply into his eyes. “Please,” she said simply.

He opened his mouth, but closed it without a sound and put his pants on.

Kara smirked.

“Don’t put your shirt on,” she called after him and laughed when he muttered something in Daxamite under his breath.

And then she went to the kitchen to save their supper, while listening to his sweet talk.

Because the sweet talk, or his naked chest - who knew?- worked amazingly on Mrs. Jenkins, after the meal Kara decided to polish her flirting skills a little and they continued their interrupted fun in the bedroom.

It seemed they needed a nth-metal bed too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like it? Because the next chap is already written and it's about Mon-El and his infamous accident with the toilet seat :P  
Thanks for reading! <3


	3. A toilet song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kara’s bathroom suffers again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting quicker than I thought because sigh, dumb SG show spoilers and ugh, whatever.
> 
> Big hugs for my wifey-beta who did splendid job <3

Kara sighed, waiting for another panel of the very boring conference about digital insurances to begin. She was sure that Snapper officially hated her. Writing a piece about it was going to be a major pain in her ass.

_ Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase. Hakuna Matata!- _

Her phone rang and she had to smile, because she knew who was calling. Someone who set this ringtone for his contact right after they’ve finished watching The Lion King.

And to be honest? It fit him perfectly.

“How’s my favorite Daxamite?” she asked cheerfully. 

“_Me?_ _I’m good_, _yep_,” he answered slowly and she furrowed her brows, hearing his weird tone. “_It’s just that, uhm..._”

Ok, he sounded nervous. What made her nervous too. Because the last time he sounded like that, he’d confessed he applied washing-up liquid to the dishwasher instead of polishing liquid. 

She had not been amused at the sight of a wave of foam flooding her kitchen.

“What happened,” she asked flatly, staring at the ceiling, preparing for the worst.

“ _ I kind of, accidentally I swear, ripped the seat off the toilet, _ ” he said sheepishly.

“That… completely new one that was bought two weeks ago?” she asked, trying to not sound upset, but well, she valued her things - sue her.

“ _ Yes, I’m sorry! I just drifted off with my thoughts and- _ ”

Kara sighed. She needed to buy a new one. And find someone who could replace it. But definitely not today. They could survive one day without it, right?

“ _ Please, don’t break up with me. _ ”

Or maybe she could ask a janitor if he could-

_ Wait. _

What did Mon-El just say? Definitely not what she thought she just heard.

“What?” she asked.

“ _ What? _ ”

“What did you just say?”

“ _ Uhm, I said what? _ ”

“Earlier,” Kara pinched the bridge of her nose.

There was a pause that lasted for a few heart beats.

“ _ Please, don’t break up with me? _ ” he said with a small voice.

Kara started blankly at the people who were taking the seats on the scene and tried to process what she just heard.

When they came back to each other, after the whole prince drama she noticed that he… became a lot less confident around her. Like any little mistake or misbehavior of his would cause another break up. 

Ugh, she really didn’t like it. And she needed to fix it up.

“People don’t break up over ripped toilet seats, Mon,” she said gently. “I’ll just buy a new one and ask our janitor to fix it, ok?”

“Uhm, sure,” he answered, still sounding uncertain. “Changing it isn’t a big deal? I didn’t offend the toilet god or something?”

“The toilet god?” Kara felt her brows raise again.

“I went to the History Museum yesterday and there was an exhibit about gods and deities and did you know that many Earthish cultures had them?” his voice changed from strained to easy and cheerful in a second.

“No,” Kara felt herself start to smile. He sounded like an excited space puppy.

“The one from Ancient Rome, Cloacina, had her own shrine built in some ruler’s toilet,” he said happily. “He invoked her every time the sewers were blocked. Pretty convenient, don’t you think?”

“I guess.”

“So, do you think you have a toilet god in your bathroom too?”

Kara blinked and thought about the possibility of some kind of deity that was stuck in her toilet. All the time. Seeing everything. Spying. While they were did the, uhm, physiological stuff.

_ Eww _ .

“I hope not,” she said seriously. She was not going to look at her toilet in the same way ever again.

“Hmm, maybe just in case I should offer it an apology song? We sang them to our Daxamite gods,” Mon-El proposed and Kara snorted at the thought of him, standing over her toilet and singing songs with his nice and deep baritone. Not carrying the tune.

Her toilet was not going to survive it. But it was also probably not going to stop him.

“Do whatever you want,” she laughed and received some sulky stares from people around her, the panel had already started and the organizer was introducing the guests.

“I need to go, see you later.”

“Ok, love you,” he said simply and ended the call.

Leaving her totally speechless, with hot cheeks and a racing heart.

It was the second time he said he loved her.

*

In the middle of the panel about digital insurance trends (Snapper, God and Rao didn’t have mercy for her) her smartphone started beeping like crazy. 

She got 27 pics of toilet seats from Mon-El.

Her brows met her hairline.

_ Which one do you like? _

_ What’s going on? _ she typed back, ignoring a fascinating monologue about  AI and automation for faster claims.

_ I’m in the shop and those fit your toilet model. But I don’t know which one would you like. _

Kara blinked.

Her ex Daxamite prince had, without any encouragement, went to the shop and was now standing there, surrounded by toilet seats and asking her which one he should buy?

A very warm feeling, that she started to be very familiar with, spread inside of her body.

But before she could answer, her phone beeped again.

_ My personal favorite is this one, it reminds me of my toilet on Daxam. _

On the pic was a cute pink toilet seat with unicorns and rainbows printed all over it.

Kara laughed so hard they almost kicked her out from the conference room.

*

“Babe?” Kara called when she entered her loft, balancing five boxes of pizza and one big bag filled with pot stickers. 

“In the bathroom,” he yelled back.

When she checked in on him, he was sitting cross-legged, studying the instruction sheet with his head tilted to the side. 

The new toilet seat she finally chose was lying beside him along with a box of tools. 

“Hey,” she approached his back and ruffled his hair. “You decided to change your career path and become a janitor?”

He raised his head and looked at her with dumbfounded expression on his face. 

“There is an actual path you can take and-” he blinked. “An idiom?”

“An idiom,” she smiled, leaned over him, put her hands on the side of his face and kissed him like Spider-man in the ancient movie number one.

“Are you really going to change it?” she asked when her back started killing her and she needed to straighten herself up.

“After our call I asked Tom if changing a toilet seat is complicated and he said not really. He said that I just needed to check the model and buy the fitting one.”

“Tom? You mean Mr. Hawkings the janitor?”

“Yes. He was kind enough to give me some advice and lend me a tool box.” He smiled.

Kara wanted to tease him and ask when in the world he and Tom became friends, but he returned to studying the instructions.

“Are you sure you can do it?” she asked.

“Won’t know if I don’t try,” he hummed back and she smiled, heading off to take care of their dinner.

“Kara! Can you come here for a second?” he yelled twenty minutes later.

When she entered the bathroom, he was standing on the side of the toilet that had a brand new seat on.

“Tadah!” he tapped the lid gently and it slowly fell down and closed.

“I did it!” he yelled and threw his hands into the air…

Accidentally hitting the tile on the wall with his superpowered elbow.

The tile cracked and they both watched as it hit the floor and crumbled into pieces.

They looked at each other.

“Please don’t tell me I need to sing an apology song to a god of tiles, too,” he said with wide eyes and hands still above his head.

Kara laughed.

And then checked her notes from the conference, because it seemed her loft really needed a homeowner’s insurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon-El visiting museums and singing songs to offended gods is CANON - from Supergirl: Age of Atlantis.  
Hope you liked.


	4. And the world's a little brighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some things are said, some are not, but in the end it doesn’t really matter. And the bathroom suffers again, oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR MY DEAR ASSHOLES!  
May we get our Karamel reunion in canon and Lena dying horrible death, stabbed by Eve. Amen!
> 
> Big thanks for my beta-wifey, zrnas <3

Kara yawned and, still drowsy, reached for her phone that was lying on her nightstand.

But instead of grabbing her phone she hit an unstable tower of books with her hand. She confusedly opened her eyes, just to see Lord of The Rings falling right into her face.

It was commonly known that Kryptonians had superpowers, superspeed included.

Not before the morning coffee, though.

The most famous fantasy book hit her face, while the other volumes were hitting the bed and the floor.

Kara moaned, annoyed, took the book off her face and decided she needed to have a talk with Mon-El about leaving his books on her nightstand… but it was not her nightstand.

Somehow, in the middle of the night she moved to his side of the bed.

That meant he didn’t come back from his shift at the bar, so probably the infamous Friday party in the alien bar had lasted for the whole night and he was still working.

That meant no coffee, no pancakes, no morning kiss and cuddling.

Kara growled. 

When? How did it happen? When did she become so… addicted to these things? She was perfectly fine for more than 25 years of her virgin life without it all, and then the space sleeping beauty decided to crash down on her head and spoil her with homemade food, sex and affection.

She snuggled her face into a pillow and took a deep breath. 

The pillow smelled like him, a mix of cinnamon, sandalwood, with a hint of orange and something she could not really describe. Oh, and there was the faint scent of her strawberry-vanilla shampoo he loved using.

Kara smiled into the pillow, remembering how Winn and James were teasing him that he smelled like a bubblegum factory and Mon-El, with a disarming smile and mischievous sparks dancing in his eyes, answered that nope, he smelled exactly like his mate.

The fact that Winn turned absolutely red and James choked on his slushie was going to make her laugh forever.

It was also the first time that she didn’t become embarrassed by him so openly and unabashedly commenting on their intimate relationship.

It seemed she was slowly getting used to the fact she had a mate.

Kara stretched her limbs and sat up. She put her feet on the carpet and stepped on a book.

Romeo and Juliet. With a bookmark in the middle of the book that had not moved for at least a week.

After she told him how the book ended, every time he took it up with an intention to finish it, he stared at it hard and murmured something about dumb canon and how it was totally unrealistic from the Daxamite comparative literature school’s perspective, which made Kara think that surprisingly, his frat boy ass hadn’t slept through his classes on Daxam.

Anyway, every time he put the book away and took up something else. For the past few days he was deep into The Discworld series… which was beautifully spread all over her floor now.

Kara sighed and started picking them up, trying to rebuild the book tower on the nightstand. When she finished, she frowned at the unstable construction made of 15 books that was ready to fall again. 

It seemed that he visited some book shops and National City Library more than once after she took him there (Kara regretted that she didn't take a pic of his mouth wide open when they first entered the building and he saw all of the shelves full of books) and somehow persuaded the old, awful, very mean and sarcastic female tyrannosaur aka the librarian to lend him more books than were allowed. 

It looked like he had an unusual talent to charm mean old reptiles. 

Kara yelped and steadied the tower when it swayed dangerously.

Yep, it was not a good place for his books. She looked around her loft and frowned when she noticed his t-shirt and boxers he used as pajama, neatly folded on a chair. 

Kara bit her lip.

*

The Alien Friday Party didn’t go as expected. 

A group of Bolovaxians and Ikonns decided to have a drinking game that almost ended with a bloodbath when mothers on both sides started to be mentioned, but somehow, after drinking some blue, fluorescent, smoking alcohol they started singing in their native languages and all moved to the bathroom to flush rubber ducks… and other stuff you don’t want to hear about, in the toilets. They were giggling and laughing so loudly that all the glasses in the bar were shaking.

They came back, embracing each other and singing, this time in English with thick accents: 

_ We are here to drink your beer  _

_ And steal your rum at a point of a gun _

_ Your alcohol to us will fall _

_ 'Cause we are here to drink your beer _ _ ! _

This was the censored version.

Next, they downed all alcohol. Thank Rao, they paid for it, but left at the 5 AM, leaving ruins behind them.

Mon-El and M’gann just looked at each other and spent the next two hours on cleaning the mess up. When they reached the toilets they played rock, paper, scissors and yes, Mon-El spent another hour to think how to take the ducks… and other stuff out.

He did.

And now he needed a shower. 

And a new shirt. 

And maybe a new nose, because all of his olfactory receptors were probably dead.

But Mon-El didn’t really mind.

He was slowly walking to Kara’s loft, with his hands in pockets, looking at the cloudy, grey sky, breathing the not so fresh National City air, feeling absolutely content.

Why? His limbs were sore, he was sleepy and had probably never smelled so horrible in his entire royal life. He was basically broke - he really should not have bought all the Narnia volumes because there wasn’t enough place in Kara’s loft.... Well, there was, he just never really asked her if he could leave his stuff there. And yet he brought and left some of his clothes, books, favourite tea cup and toothbrush there, and Kara said nothing. 

Was it okay? Was it not? Should he take it all back to the DEO? He just really didn’t want to part with his precious books for too long. Kara gave him the key to her loft, did that mean something or not? Ugh, Earthlings had weird mating rituals, he needed to ask Winn about it all.

Moving forward, he had no super splendid job (but hey, it was his, he kind of loved it, he was earning money for the first time in his life and could have never predicted how satisfying it felt), was not the brightest person on the planet, sometimes was amazingly confused by the simplest tasks and his feelings were in a total mess.

Yet, he felt… simply happy.

When he entered Kara’s building, he chose the staircase to have time to think about it a little longer.

Maybe that was the reason? The fact that he could choose stairs and waste some time. The fact that no guards were following his ass. The fact that he was just another anonymous, unimportant guy on this planet. The fact it was the first time in his life he was really liked by people who didn't pretend just to gain something from the Prince of Daxam. The fact that the annoying voice in the back of his head was silent, and not whispering “what is your mother going to say about this, you moron?” all the time. That he was sober and not drugged for longer than ever and as much he was terrified by all the feelings - it was wonderful. 

Was this how freedom tasted? Because he’s definitely become addicted to it.

But, it wasn’t everything, he thought, reaching for the keys and stopping in front of Kara’s loft.

He wondered, did she know how much she affected him? How much she gave him? 

The opportunity to come back to her after his every shift. To bring her food to CatCo and see her smile brighten her whole face, the smile that was aimed only for him, a smile that could erase his every doubt and worry in a second. To listen to her angry huffs while she was correcting some articles for Snapper. To hear her contagious laugh while watching dumb cartoons on Netflix he didn’t really find that funny, with them on her couch, covered by a blanket, with her feet on his lap. To warm up and feel completely safe by just standing near her in the kitchen while preparing food and listening to her blabbering. 

Her sole, sunny, warm presence was enough to fill the empty void inside of him with light and made him feel whole and welcomed.

Mon-El knew he didn’t deserve her. Oh, he was more than aware of it. But, in the end, she chose him anyway. Him, with all of his flaws, incompetence, baggage of his past, mommy issues and annoying jokes. 

He didn’t deserve her, but at least he could try to be better and make her happy. 

Starting with making her morning coffee before she woke up.

Or not.

Kara was already sitting in front of one of her shelves, putting some figurines into a box.

“What are you doing?” he asked and closed the door.

“Hey, I’m making some place for your books. I already made some space for your clothes in my closet. And-”

She kept talking but he didn’t really listen, frozen in his tracks, focusing hard on swallowing down the tears that for some reason were gathering in his eyes.

Kara stood up and turned to him. “I think it’s enough space to fit all of your new books but you really should consider buying an ebook reader. I know you love sniffing the paper but-”

Kara didn’t finish, as he closed her into a tight embrace, hiding his face in the crook of her neck.

She stiffened because she was not used to be the object of such affection. But then she relaxed and hugged him back, her hand scratching his scalp.

“Something’s wrong?” Kara asked quietly, entwining her fingers with his hair, listening to the erratic beat of his heart.

He swallowed hard.

“Nah, it’s just-”

How could he tell her, when he was not able to describe the hurricane of feelings inside of him? That she felt, she felt like…

Home.

Kara was his home. 

His safe haven. 

His anchor. 

His lighthouse that could bring him back from the deepest darkness of the night.

But she wasn’t ready to hear it, was she?

“Just felt like hugging someone after a whole night of avoiding people who were ready to throw up at me,” he joked but she knew he wasn’t telling her the truth.

Some weeks, maybe even days ago it would have annoyed her, because she would have thought he was just goofing around and ignoring the problem.

But now, she knew it was his way to protect himself. To protect her.

“That’s nice,” she murmured and put her head on his shoulder, because deep inside Kara knew she was not ready to hear the words he was thinking about and she was grateful he didn’t say them. 

So instead, she focused on the slowly calming beat of his heart.

How long did they stay like that? Who knew. Who cared.

But uhm, some things needed to be said.

“Mon-El?” she asked finally when something started to be impossible to ignore, even for her Kryptonian nose made of steel. “Why do you smell like a dragon’s ass?”

He straightened himself, looked at her sadly and puffed out his cheeks.

“You really don’t want to know,” he said seriously.

But then he smiled. Like only he could. 

A horde of butterflies appeared in Kara’s stomach. 

“Did you take a shower?”

“No,” she said slowly and yelped when he scoped her into his arms.

“What a coincidence,” he said happily. “You need a shower, I need a shower. It’s like a sign from Rao.”

“Mon-El!”

He stopped and looked at her like a kicked puppy.

“You don’t want to?” he said with a tearful voice and a trembling lip.

“Seriously? This is how you are going to play it? Do you have any man's pride left?”

“Nope, nothing, zero, nada,” he said unashamedly and she sighed tiredly, suddenly understanding why she could have never been with Adam or James - as weird as it sounded, they would have never kept her on her toes like this Daxamite. 

“So yes or no?”

Kara looked at him. At his disheveled hair, shiny grey eyes, soft smile and the dimple on his cheek.

Refusing a proposition of a shower with her hot boyfriend who looked 10 times hotter without his clothes on? With foam and water running down his well toned body?

Great joke!

“Let’s just try not to make a hole in the wall this time, ok? Explaining it to our neighbours the last week was enough of pain in the ass and I don’t need a revision.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled, entered the bathroom and kicked the door shut.

A little too strongly, because a crack appeared on a surface.

They were both too occupied to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it seems people still think about Acidentally in Love so.... what would you say about me writing an AiL sequel one shot about karamel getting married? Yay? Nay?


	5. I - Her side of the bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kara can’t sleep and the Daxamite doesn’t help - but it’s not what you’re thinking about, you horny bastards. And for once the bathroom is safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always big kudos for my beta-wfiey, zrnas <3

Usually, Kara could fall asleep without any problems. All she needed to do was to just hit her comfy bed, cover herself with a blanket and close her eyes.

Not tonight.

Kara turned from her front to her back for the nth time and stared hard at the ceiling, like she wanted to yell at it. 

The ceiling, very wisely, and also because it had no eyes, didn’t look back. 

Kara sighed and stuck one leg out from under a blanket. After 10 seconds she hid it back in. Then put her hand under her head. Then on her stomach. Turned her head to the right side, only to change it to the left after half a minute. She turned to her right side and curled into a ball. Then sighed again and straightened her legs, staring at the wall. 

And no, the wall didn’t look back either.

Kara growled.

She felt a weight shift behind her before two arms sneaked around her.

“What’s wrong,” Mon-El mumbled sleepily into her neck, snuggling her stiff body to his chest.

“Nothing,” she snapped.

“I can hear your crinkle forming,” he slurred matter-of-factly.

“You can’t hear that, besides I’m not crinkling,” she snarled, annoyed, because there was a crinkle and she felt a soft smile appearing on his lips and it was ridiculous that she knew that without looking at him.

Damn his ass.

Kara puffed out her cheeks, unsure if she should start this conversation now. It was 4 AM after all, and he was tired after a long shift in the alien bar.

Still, it was his damned fault she could not fall asleep.

“Well, I’m a little mad at you,” she said finally.

“Sorry,” he didn’t really sound sorry, just yawned into her neck and snuggled closer. “What have I done this time,” he asked, sounding like he was ready to fall asleep again.

Kara narrowed her eyes, still murdering the wall with her angry stare. 

Where to begin? 

The fact that he lied to her about his royal ass was already forgiven, thanks to the Music Creep that liked to lock people inside their minds and force them to sing (seriously? what the heck was wrong with this dude?). Everything returned to normal between them, the teasing, cuddling, joking, having sex (well, more than before) and working together. So no, his lie was not the reason why she was a  _ little  _ mad at him. 

It was not because he didn’t put the toilet seat down again today. Or the fact that he stopped to pet a big fluffy labrador on their walk in the park and the dog’s hot owner was flirting with him, intensely, even when it was obvious she was his girlfriend (she was standing right by his side goddamnit, and clinging to his arm!), because Mon totally ignored the guy and focused on scratching the dog behind its ears. Or the fact he and Winn threw paper planes around the DEO - the image of Alex bashing them mercifully was adequate punishment in Kara’s opinion.

So nope, nothing above. Then what?

“You said you love me,” she said sternly.

Kara didn’t know why it hit her so suddenly tonight. 

There she was, just waking up when he came back from his shift and sneaked into their bed, kissed her cheek, apologized for waking her up (she didn’t mind), mumbled the three magical words absently and immediately fell asleep. 

Leaving her speechless and awake. 

Because it brought back a different memory, a different time when he said these words.

_ I love you. With everything I have I love you. _

It was weeks after the whole mess already, after the Music Creep forced them into the musical word. She understood and forgave him, so why did it suddenly hit her this hard?

_ Because you have never talked or even dared to think about it _ , a small voice in the back of her head said.  _ You just threw yourself into work and saving the world, like everything was back to normal. While it isn’t, is it? _

Kara bit her lip, because it was truth. 

Back then she was focused on her broken heart, the devastating feeling of him lying to her about such an important thing. On him not trusting her enough to tell her and the fact that she did the exact thing he was so afraid she would right after it came out. On his parents taking him away from her, when she thought she could finally have it all. 

She was too hurt and too angry to think about anything else. And when they got back together, she was just too happy to analyze anything.

But the truth was… he said he loved her. With such sincerity and confidence that punched her right in her guts with each word leaving his mouth. With tears in his eyes, vulnerability and heart open wide maybe for the first time in his entire life, just for her.

And then he admitted he didn’t know if he would have ever told her the truth under different circumstances. 

It hurt. And it made her mad. And afraid. She knew he was absolutely honest, even when he knew he could have lost her because of it.

Kara knew they were standing on the crossroads at that moment. All the possibilities that were brought to the game by his words… simply scared her.

So she broke his heart and her own again in the process. 

Because, aside from the fact that he hurt her like no one else, it happened too fast and she was not ready. For the changes, the responsibility, for something more serious than a cute boyfriend who made her laugh, prepared her food and cuddled her in his arms. It was too soon for her to admit she was attracted to him not only because he was the only male on this planet that could survive sex with her. 

That he’s become much, much more than that.

But the days passed, things were cleared up and she almost lost him again, when Rhea tore them apart and he sacrificed himself for her. And she told J’onn she could not lose him.

Now, the idea of talking about her feelings didn’t scare her that much. And maybe, she was ready to talk about it all.

So here she was - sleepless, annoyed, confused and itching for answers.

“Mhm.”

But Mon-El obviously was not.

Not so long ago she told him she was probably going to be always a little mad at him. 

She regretted these words now. Greatly.

Kara shifted her position and faced her boyfriend. He was lying with his eyes closed, ruffled hair and a peaceful face of a guy with no worries.

It annoyed her even more.

“When did it happen?”

“What?” He didn’t open his eyes.

“When did you fall in love with me?”

Mon-El didn’t say a thing for a while, and when she thought he had fallen asleep:

“When I escaped DEO after I woke up-”

_ That… that early? _ Kara blushed.

“-and you tossed me at the wall. I was always into BDSM,” he finished seriously, but there was a smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.

“MON-EL!” She poked at his chest with her finger made of steel.

“I’m not sure. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

“Oh.”

That was sweet- 

_ Wait _ .

“Did you just quote Pride and Prejudice?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Maybe.” He smiled a little teasingly, because indeed, he did quote Jane Austen.

Kara moaned and hid her face in his chest. 

How in the world he could tease and annoy her while being half-asleep? Unbelievable.

Why, oh why, was this love so complicated?

But his chest was warm, the beat of his heart steady and lulling, the scent of his skin comforting.

Kara closed her eyes and finally felt comfortable. But still annoyed.

“When you sacrificed yourself for me, when Cadmus caught us,” His voice, heavy with sleep, made her eyes open, but she didn’t move.

“No one ever did something like that for me,” he continued slowly. “No one ever cared that much. And you didn't even like me much back then-”

Kara wanted to protest, but no sound escaped her mouth - she didn’t want him to stop.

Her heart was racing, his was calm and steady.

“And I just… knew, even if I’ve never felt like that before.”

She raised her head and looked at his face.

Mon-El looked peaceful, younger that he really was, without the worries hidden under his happy-go-lucky mask he wore so often, even for her.

Was it that moment? When she should have told him?

She bit her lip and hesitantly put a hand on his cheek.

“It’s ok, you don’t need to. I know,” he mumbled sleepily and leaned into her touch. 

“How?” she asked in small, quiet voice.

“You came after me,” he sighed and finally fell asleep.

Kara blinked.

Daxamite ship, right after the fight. The view of him, approaching her, crushing her in his arms. The overwhelming wave of relief flooding her whole body.

_ You came after me. _

_ Every time. _

She caressed his cheek, as light as a feather, not wanting to disturb his sleep. Watching him breathing peacefully, imprinting this view into her memory.

Maybe… maybe love was not that complicated, she thought, moving her hand and resting it on his neck.

You could say _ I love you, _ using different words or not saying anything at all, she thought, while resting her head on his chest again. 

Action was more important than words, right? Especially, when the person you loved, understood you better than you understand  yourself . 

Kara yawned, and fell asleep, lulled by his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the next chap is already written and almost edited, so if you want to read about Mon-El's side of the bed - be nice. Yes, this is me whoring for attention, sue me.  
Thanks for reading :)


	6. II - His side of the bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Mon-El wakes up disturbed by someone, and this time the bed suffers. And yes, it’s exactly what you’re thinking about, you horny bastards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks for my wifey-beta, zrnas. Love you :)

Mon-El yawned and rubbed his eyes, trying to remove the last reminds of sleep. 

For a second, an impression of something important happening last night flashed through his mind, but was quickly forgotten.

Because Kara snored quite loudly into his chest.

He chuckled quietly and raised his head to look at his Kryptonian, spread all over his chest like a starfish.

She snored again and he realized, with a smile, just who was responsible for waking him up way before an alarm clock.

Mon-El gently adjusted the blanket and covered Kara’s back with it. He buried his face in her hair, inhaled her scent (strawberry-vanilla) and sighed contently. Then laid his head on the pillow, put his hand on the small of her back and smiled like an idiot.

Damn, was it even be allowed to feel that good? Absolutely content? Safe? In the right place? Because he was running out of the proper words that could describe his feelings.

He took a glimpse of the alarm clock standing on the nightstand - about 30 minutes left for Kara waking up. He should get up before her and prepare her some breakfast. He could go to the bakery and buy those rolls with black cumin seeds that she liked so much. And maybe prepare masala chai, the only kind of tea she loved, probably because it was sweet, spicy and didn’t taste like tea.

But for now, just for a little longer, he wanted to stay like this and soak in her warmth. 

So he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drown in the peaceful, amazing feeling of her warm weight in his arms.

The drowning was interrupted, from time to time, by her not so quiet snores. 

His chest rumbled with another chuckle that almost woke her up, so he started to draw soothing circles on her back with his thumb - a well known method to make his Kryptonian fall asleep. 

_ That was a totally new experience for him, wasn’t it? _

Mon-El opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Him being in bed with someone in the morning, just lying and doing nothing? He didn’t recall anything like that while being the Daxamite prince.

First of all, they were not naked but fully clothed, just lying with each other quite innocently. 

Yes, innocently was a new term that marched into his life and made itself a guest. If anyone had called him innocent on Daxam, he would have felt offended. It would have ended with a fight (and his guards would have not been amused) or in his or whoever’s bed, where he would have proved how there wasn’t an innocent cell in his body.

Now? Damn it all, as long as he had Kara on his side he could have been called whatever shit anyone desired and he didn’t care, as long she still wanted him. All his old party pals could screw themselves… Oh wait, they were all dead, so serves them right… 

On the other hand, Vax and Ilan were not that bad. Probably, if they had been sober, not drugged and away from Daxam they could have given an impression of decent creatures. Kara might have even liked them. Dar-En, the palace cook - the old grumpy woman that allowed Mon-El to help her prepare food when his parents were away on some diplomatic travels - would have probably liked Kara too… or beat her with a dipper, it was hard to tell. And two or three of his guards, especially-

Mon-El blinked, his eyes suddenly hot and dry and his entire body stiff. 

_ Bad thoughts. _

Kara, like she was sensing he was in distress, mumbled something into his chest, moved her hand from his stomach to his hip and squeezed the blanket.

He took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles.

_ Where was he?  _

Secondly, yes, they were both fully clothed in their pajamas, because nothing happened last night. He just came back from his work, took a super quick shower and sneaked to the bed to snuggle with her. Just like that. No sex. No hot kisses. No petting or other stuff. Just sleeping. Many nights were filled with talking, joking, teasing or watching some movies, while cuddling or tickling… ok, tickling usually lead to sex. But there were nights when they would just lie beside each other, her working on some article, him reading a book, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

On Daxam? Him? With a beautiful, hot girl in his bed? Not having sex and just talking? Or doing nothing? Jolly joke. He could not recall any memory of talking about normal stuff with his sex partners. Probably because he usually was too drunk or drugged and conversation was not a priority (and well, he could talk about the important and serious issues with his goddamn mentor and teacher....oh Rao, how he missed the old geezer).

Anyway, what could he have talked about with them? How he dreamt about being a simple traveller? How worthless he felt? How the prospect of ruling the Daxam scared the shit out of him? How much he despited himself and his parents? What a big coward he was? How his dragon was allergic to grushka fruits? How he didn’t talk to anyone because he was afraid there was nothing really interesting or worthy about him? Only stupid jokes, fake bravado of the frat boy of the universe and his royal position that in reality meant absolutely nothing.

But well, it seemed there were some depths inside of him and he was not an empty shell. At least Kara thought like that. And Winn. And Alex, J’onn, M’gann and Eliza. Even James, after awhile, looked like he finally got used to his Daxamite ass.

It seemed Mon-El found a real family.

All what was needed to achieve that was Daxam’s explosion, losing all his wealth and his position and the few people that-

He blinked rapidly and rubbed at his eyes which again felt weirdly hot.

Kara shifted her body. Her hand landed on his crotch, but he didn’t notice.

_ Bad thoughts, where the hell was he? _

He remembered the times of waking up with people in his bed, spread all over him, naked, sweaty, one or more, Daxamites or other species, nameless women and men, older and younger, one night stands he could not recall the faces of later. He never felt anything but absolutely nothing, aside from headaches, the occasional nausea and the urge to take a shower to wash everything away. Or the need to run away.

Yep. Thinking about it after some time, made him realize the obvious fact that it was not fun at all. Comparing it to what he had now… He was truly lucky and thinking about losing it all frightened him to death.

Because he didn’t believe he could live without her.

“What’s wrong?”

He blinked, raised his head and looked at Kara, who put her chin on his chest and was watching him with the blue eyes he loved so much, watchful and concerned.

“Nothing?” he answered, because nothing was wrong, he was just thinking about... stuff.

_ Right? _

“Hmm, interesting,” she raised her brows sceptically. “Because I’m getting some mixed signals from your body. You are tense as hell and have been glaring holes into the ceiling for the last five minutes, totally ignoring me as I said hi, twice. And here we are with this-” she patted the strategic place between his legs that was covered with a blanket.

Let’s just say it was not flat anymore.

“And it’s a problem?” he asked slowly.

“Yes, because this is the first time you didn’t notice you got your morning wood and we are not doing anything with it. What’s wrong?” she asked seriously, worry flooding her comets.

Mon-El opened his mouth to say something distracting, that would make her forget about it, because no way in hell he was going to talk about his old sex life or his dumb existential crisis, but then something hit him.

“My what?” he blinked.

“Your morning wood? Erection? Hello? Krypton to Daxam?” she poked his cheek with a finger.

He slowly shifted his head to look past her at his crotch.

For a long time he said nothing. He just kept staring at it with a weird look on his face.

“Mon-El?” Kara asked slowly, getting a nasty feeling she made a big mistake.

“Ok, I get the morning part,” he finally said. “But why wood? I don’t get it. Why not a morning stick? Or a wand. It would make more sense. And seriously, wood? It seems… unhygienic, don’t you think? And-”

Kara closed her eyes and cursed inwardly. Why didn’t she keep her mouth closed?!

She took a panicked look at the alarm clock.

Damnit! 3 minutes and 37 seconds left to the alarm. She could stay still and listen to Mon-El do a freaking TED talk about proper definitions for erection or they could have some very fast sex.

Without a second of hesitation she put her hands on his cheeks and ended his monologue with a deep hot kiss. Then she sat on his hips and well, had a very enthusiastic and energetic fun with him. 

A little too energetic because something inside the bed broke, but Mon-El promised to find it and fix it.

When she finally left her loft, a BIT late, she met Mrs Kowalski in the elevator. Yes, the old horrible neighbor that absolutely detested her.

The old lady looked at her with narrowed eyes - Kara immediately knew the grumpy petrifaction was aware of what she and Mon-El were just doing, oh RAO! - and… without a word she gave her a thumbs up. 

And then, just like that, she adjusted her hat and got off the elevator, leaving a speechless and super blushing Kara behind.

Who was late for work.

_ Damn! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LoneWulffe, every time I imagine Mon-El's mentor, teacher or a father figure, I see your Bal-Seg and this what happened in this chap. I kind of blame you (and love in the same time). So yes, I smuggled him into this chap - sue me.  
Secondly, the third and last part of this "bed series" is, yes - already written and, a spoiler alert, I'm going to change the rating of this story to M. If you want to read it, let's say, on this Sunday - you know what to do :)))))  
Anyway, hope you liked it. Thank you for the all support and love you send me <3


	7. III -Their bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which nothing really happens on a lazy Sunday morning. And it’s perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks for my beta-wifey zrnas.  
To celebrate my b-day and update for you - appreciate it!  
Btw, the rating was changed to M for a reason. You are welcome ;)  
Also, this chap is a little experiment and I hope you are going to like it, because I'm fucking proud of it.

There were awful Sunday mornings.

On those mornings, they were both woken up much too early, by police sirens or DEO calls, urging them to get up and deal with the first world’s problems. 

Or one of them would wake up alone, absently tracing the cold on his or her side of the bed.

There were bad Sundays mornings, when they were woken up by the freaking pigeons flirting like crazy on the balcony, or the DEO called right after they managed to finish their breakfast. 

Or when they were both quiet, not really knowing why, but something in the air - old lies, things that were never said, things that needed to be said, things from the past, things about the future - prevented them from talking, both focusing on their business, too afraid to disturb the silence, not wanting the things to escalate into fights. 

There were okay Sunday mornings, when they had enough time alone to fully wake up, eat, laugh and talk a bit, before the National City decided to call its heroes. 

There were great Sunday mornings, when no one would come calling, the pigeons were thankfully dead and eaten by some predators, when they talked or stayed silent, prepared food together, watched movies and did nothing productive.

And there were perfect Sunday mornings. 

Like this one.

*

They both opened their eyes at the same time, woken up by the raindrops hitting the windows and muffling other sounds of the city.

Cerulean blue met stormy gray, his hand grasping hers and that was enough for soft smiles to blossom on their lips. 

Somehow they both knew it was going to be the perfect lazy Sunday, with just the two of them, hidden in the loft, in their small world, not interrupted by anyone. 

Without a word he turned to his back and pulled her to him, her cheek on the right side of his chest, where she could listen to the slow rhythm of his heart.

She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of their naked bodies covered by a blanket. Their scents were blended together and she smiled, her fingers drawing circles on his bare chest, with a faint memory of their love making from the previous night. Together with his hand protectively laid on the small of her back and his steady heartbeat… it was everything for her, at that moment. 

Lazy minutes passed in peaceful silence, both of them lost in their own words, but still aware of the presence of the other.

Her fingers stopped moving, as she was drifting between a dream and wakefulness. 

But her stomach demanded attention and grumbled hungrily.

His chest vibrated with a soundless chuckle. She felt a ghost of a kiss on the crown of her head and whimpered when he gently slipped form the bed, depriving her of the heat of his body she immediately missed.

A heat she could feel. A heat she got addicted to very easily.

She groaned into the blanket, chasing the quickly fading warmth and cracked one eye open.

Just to see his completely naked back exposed to her, him bending over for his boxers that were lying on the floor, tangled with other pieces of clothing that were spread all over her bedroom. 

Or maybe all over her whole loft. The memories from the previous night were a little hazy, dominated by something more intense than the simple,  boring stripping of their clothes.

Completely awake now, she watched as he grabbed his boxers, and without bothering to put them on, headed to the bathroom.

She traced his graceful moves with her eyes, watched how his muscles shifted under his skin, how the shadows played on the valleys of his back, watched the red lines and spots made by her fingers and teeth that marked his body as hers. 

Suddenly, she felt a different kind of delightful warmth, spreading with waves from the sweetly sore place between her legs.

She bit her lip, deliberating if she should call out to him or not, but with a blink of her eye, he disappeared into the bathroom.

A disappointed sigh escaped her lips as she stretched her limbs, but the day had just started and she knew there were going to be more opportunities.

She lazily got up, grabbed his black t-shirt from the floor and put it on. 

While passing the bathroom she debated about joining him in the shower, but he started to sing, surprisingly smoothly, with his baritone hitting the correct notes. He was clearly having fun, so she just smiled and headed to the kitchen.

Her goal - coffee for the Kryptonian, tea for the Daxamite.

He entered the kitchen humming cheerfully, filling the space with his vibrant presence, while she was pouring water into his Timon and Pumba mug.

He hugged her from behind, smelling like her shampoo, enveloping her in his embrace and putting his face in the crook of her neck, where he found that one special place with his lips.

She sighed contently, swaying her hips to the melody of his hum, and added an extra spoon of sugar into her coffee, while some drops from his wet hair fell on the table.

They stayed like that, just for a few moments, bathing in the warmth radiating from their bodies, feeling thankful for all that they had together.

But her stomach had different priorities.

He chuckled, kissed her shoulder and moved to the fridge. He opened it, resting his arm on the door and frowned at the  products.

Eggs. Vegetables. Cheese. Yogurts. Milk. Enormous amount of sandwich meat, loved by his Kryptonian carnivore. Butter. Fruit.

_ Hmm. _

She approached his back and put her chin on his shoulder.

He reached for the eggs. One, two, three. 

She took two more.

He took out cheese and tomatoes, but when he reached for the milk, she growled.

One look at her scowling face and the milk stayed in the fridge.

While he was preparing food, she took a quick shower. 

She came back, still only wearing his t-shirt, just in time to receive her plate with half of the omelette.

Half for her, half for him.

He ate it simple, with just a pinch of salt.

She added more cheese and a slice of a sandwich ham. 

And sneezed after accidentally inhaling some pepper she was adding to her meal.

They ate… in almost perfect silence.

He ignored her groan, when he poured himself a glass of milk.

She ignored his sigh, when a tomato slipped from her fork and landed on his t-shirt.

He raised a brow when she stole a piece from his plate.

She smiled when he brushed a crumb from the corner of her mouth and licked it off from his thumb.

After breakfast, they refilled their mugs and returned to the bed.

He focused on his new book, she scrolled down the news on her phone, their legs tangled under the blanket.

And then she grabbed her hairbrush, sat cross legged on the edge of their bed and started brushing her hair with slow strokes.

His book laid forgotten on his lap.

The sounds of raindrops hitting the windows and a summer storm slowly approaching intensified, and he watched her graceful moves, an intimate spectacle just for him. 

Lightning flashed, electrifying the air and  building tension i n his body.

Her hand stopped in the middle of a stroke when she finally sensed the weight of his intense stare.

She slowly moved her head and glanced at him lazily over her shoulder, through her long lashes, for one, two, three heartbeats, revelling in the way he was staring at her, his eyes like a stormy sky, darkening with anticipation, waiting for her move.

The hair brush fell to the bed.

She swiftly turned her body and approached him like a cat, not breaking eye contact even for a second. 

His book hit the floor.

She climbed into his lap, with her legs on his sides and hands cupping his face. Her damp hair was brushing his cheeks, and she towered above him, her fingers tracing his jaw, the oh so familiar angles.

The eye contact was broken when she bit her lip and glanced at his mouth, while he slipped his hands under her shirt and put them on her hips.

She brushed his slightly parted lips with a ghost of a touch, prolonging the sweet torture, the calm, just before the storm.

They met in the middle. 

Without rush. Without worlds colliding. Without stars exploding behind their eyelids. 

It was a fire, building slowly, almost hesitantly, inside of them, waiting to grow and consume them entirely. With leisurely removal of the last pieces of the clothes that were separating their bodies from melting into one. With their eyes, clouded by lust, admiring what was in front of them.

With her moans and throaty whimpers, as he sneaked his hand between her legs and teased her mercilessly, her muscles already clenching and begging for more, more, more of him.

With his heavy breath and gasps when she kissed his jaw, his throat, chest, stomach, tasting the salt of his sweat, moving lower and lower to finally tease him with her mouth, as relentlessly as he did to her just moments ago, guiding him to the edge of oblivion.

With them, finally connected, finally becoming one. 

Fingers linked, eyes bored into each other, staring right into the bare depths of their souls, together drowning and being reborn more intensely with every move.

In the end her spine arched as she threw her head back, her throat beautifully exposed, his name escaping her bruised lips.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her like she was the one and only anchor in his world, giving in to his own release. 

When they came back to reality, they collapsed to the bed, their weak limbs tangled, their lungs struggling to catch breath, their minds still processing what just happened.

They opened their eyes in the same moment, faces inches apart.

Like it was the most natural thing in the entire universe, they closed the distance and their foreheads touched -

And then it was already afternoon and what happened next was a different story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you liked it! Thanks for reading.  
This is the last part of the "bed series".


	8. Those who died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, it’s time to remember and mourn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big kudos for my wifey for editing.  
Also, 862euv i think I owed you a chap ;)  
I recommend listening to Helvegen by Wardruna during the last part of the chap (you will know when).
> 
> Enjoy!

He dreamt about burning rocks falling from the sky and running through crowded corridors. 

She dreamt about the ground shaking, and her mother’s warm hand holding hers as they ran to the pod.

He dreamt about a gunshot and blood.

She dreamt about tears and the heavy weight of her mother’s necklace on her chest.

He dreamt about the coldness of space chilling him to the bone and the view of his home falling apart.

She dreamt about the walls of the tiny pod closing in around her, and the view of the debris of her home floating around her.

They dreamt about the suffocating feeling of guilt.

They dreamt about the people who were left behind.

*

Kara woke up clutching her chest, struggling to catch a breath. 

It took a hundred beats of her racing heart to realize that the darkness around her was not space, but her own bedroom.

It was just a dream. She was safe. She was at home. Not in the pod.

Then why did her body think differently? 

Kara pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to calm her heart and shaky breathing.

Then she realized she was not the only one who was struggling to breathe.

Alarmed and immediately forgetting about herself, she moved her head to look at Mon-El who did the same exact thing at the same time.

His heart was racing like hers and his breath was short.

“Are you ok?!” they said in unison.

They blinked in the darkness.

“I’m fine!” 

They blinked again.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“Stop mimicking me!”

“I’m not!”

“You’re lying!”

“You’re crinkling!”

“I’m not!”

“You are!”

“Stop poking my crinkle!”

“Ha! So you’re crinkling!”

“I’m NOT, YOU-!”

“OW! Not my eye, you crazy Kryptonian!”

This was how Kara Zor-El and Mon-El of Daxam, two mature and serious aliens, ended up in a wrestling match on the bed, with no rules of fair play, yelling at each other at 4 AM.

At some point they fell from the bed, which didn’t make them stop.

What made them stop was the angry knocking to their floor.

From beneath. 

They both froze.

“Doesn’t Mrs. Kowalski live right under your flat?” Mon-El asked quietly and hesitantly, with her knee under his chin and his back pinned to the floor by her body.

“Erm, I think so?” Kara answered slowly, with his thighs around her neck and his elbow digging into her ribcage. 

“Do you think she is standing on a chair and hitting the ceiling with a broomstick?” he whispered, not moving a muscle. The knocking still didn’t stop.

“Probably,” she sighed, using her super hearing and listening to Mrs. Kowalski, who was not only hitting her ceiling but also throwing some imaginative insults their way. 

Maybe using her balcony window to leave for work in the morning and avoid being assaulted in the elevator was not a bad idea...

Finally, the old lady got tired and the angry knocks stopped. 

Neither of them dared to move for a few more moments .

“A truce?” Mon-El finally muttered, when his chin became numb from her knee pressed hard against it.

“Good idea,” Kara moaned, her back killing her.

Slowly, without making a sound, they untangled their limbs and sneaked back to their bed.

They laid on their sides, an empty space between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently and moved her head to look at his figure, after a few silent moments.

“About the wrestling match?” he said and looked at her too, a hint of humor in his voice. She knew he was smiling a little, even when it was hidden by the darkness.

He knew she smiled back when she grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently.

“No, about the-” Kara bit her lip, the memories of what woke her up flashing in her head.

“The bad dream?” he finished.

“Mhm.”

He sighed, put her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

“Not really,” he murmured and looked back at the ceiling, laying their joined hands on his chest. 

“You?”

“No.” She answered and closed her eyes.

Somehow, as weird as it was, they both knew they were dreaming about the same thing.

But they kept silent. 

For him, the memory of losing his entire world was too fresh.

For her, losing Krypton was hidden and locked deep inside.

Neither knew how to start. Or if they even wanted to.

They laid quietly, without moving for the rest of the night. Neither of them was able to fall asleep.

*

In the morning Kara grabbed Mon-El and flew to the bar (bridal style - he laughed all the way to the bar after she explained why it was called bridal) and then to her work, because yeah, Mrs Kowalski was waiting for them, lying in ambush on her floor.

*

When they came back from their jobs, with no hero-ing for them that evening, they ate dinner that they prepared together. After, they drank their coffee and tea, lost in their thoughts and the ghosts of their dreams.

She trailed the edge of her mug with her finger, biting her lip. He stared through the window, frowning, his tea cold and untouched in front of him. 

“Kara,” he cleared his throat suddenly and glanced hesitantly at his girlfriend.

“Hmm,” she raised her head and immediately knew it was about something serious.

“I was thinking… but maybe it’s a dumb idea,” he sighed and dropped his eyes to his mug.

“Hey,” she poked his hand with her finger. “I’m sure it’s not dumber than playing twister in the middle of the night,” she teased and yes, got a tiny smile in return.

“It’s just… I’ve been dreaming about the destruction of Daxam and the people I knew,” he said slowly, struggling to find the words, missing how she froze. “And uhm, I can’t… I can’t really stop dreaming about them, since I’ve arrived to Earth. It stopped for some time after I started spending my nights with you, but they’re back.”

He scratched his cheek.

“And well, I asked Winn to check what time of the year it is on Daxam now and… There is-” he winced. “Was, there  _ was  _ a holiday we celebrated, where we honored the deceased members of our families and friends who returned to Rao.  And it was celebrated around this time . It was called-”

“Sangh’ir,” she whispered. 

He lifted his head, looked at her with sad eyes and nodded. 

“You celebrated Sangh’ir on Daxam too? But it was a Kryptonian-” he raised one brow. “I mean, of course both of our planets celebrated it, we had the same ancestors after all.” She chuckled awkwardly.

He shook his head with a smile but sighed tiredly and dropped his eyes to his hands again. 

“I thought… maybe the reason I’m dreaming about them is because I left them like a coward, and all I can do to atone for it is to at least honor them on Sangh’ir. Even when I know it will never be enough.” He shrugged helplessly.

“Hey,” she put her hand on his cold one and squeezed it. “You couldn’t have done anything. All you could do was survive. Besides,” she bit her lip. “I left my parents and friends too, and-”

“Kara, you were a child! Krypton was exploding and that’s totally different-!”

“How is it totally different?! People died, I did nothing and-”

“I was the prince, you were a clueless kid-!”

“And you were not clueless?! And how many kids died on Krypton? Why was I the one privileged enough-!”

“So you could be the hero in the future! Besides, parents protect their children!”

“That guard saved your ass because he thought you were worth it, too!”

“That’s not the point!”

“What is the point?!”

“I don’t remember!”

“I don’t either!”

“So why are we arguing?!” the yelled together, blinked, looked at each other’s red and hot faces and burst into laughter.

He put his forehead on the table as his shoulders shook violently. She threw her head back and laughed, so hard the tears started to fall from her eyes.

“My mother would have scolded me, if she heard me arguing like that, especially with the crown Prince of Daxam,” Kara said when she stopped laughing and wiped her eyes. 

“Mine would have sent me to my chambers without dinner so I could rethink my behavior,” he chuckled and put his chin on the table.

“Seriously? That’s mean.”

“Yeah, but Sal, my guard, would have sneaked me something to eat,” he grinned a little, smiling at his memories. “He was not a fan standing behind my back at Sangh’ir celebrations and spending the whole ceremony sleeping with his eyes wide open.”

“Did you light the candles too?” Kara asked curiously.

“Yes. As the royal family our duty was to honor not only every one of our ancestors, but also the heroes, and Daxam’s authorities, prominent military people, artists and others and damn, I hated it, the proceedings lasted for a few days.” He rolled his eyes. “I took every opportunity to sneak out, and no, my mother was not amused. But I liked the fiestas after, the special drinks that were prepared only on that time and… erm-” he flicked his eyes at her and yes, she knew. 

He had sex. Probably a lot of it. She didn’t care. 

Ok, maybe she cared a little. But it was hard to be jealous or pissed off about things that happened decades ago and with people who were probably all dead now.

“Well, on Krypton we prepared some special food too, and honored our authorities by reciting all of their achievements-”

“That sounds very exciting.” He didn’t even try to hide the teasing in his voice.

She smacked his head.

“Don’t judge. And then we had some disputes...” she sighed, when he made a face, because yes, that was not her favorite part of the Sangh’ir. “But we roasted their mistakes and failures. And in the end, when the last candle went out, we would sing the song-”

“Road to the afterlife,” he muttered.

They looked at each other, thinking the same thing.

“So, how many candles do we need?”

*

They drew the curtains, cutting themselves off from the outside world and moved the furniture to make space in the living room. Finally, they set the candles in a straight line and lit them all.

They sat on crossed legs in front of each other, with the first candle between them.

Their Sangh’ir - a Kryptonian and Daxamite version with a tiny pinch of their own ideas.

“This one is for Streaky, my cat.” Kara started, staring at the flame. “My first friend here on Earth. He helped me control my powers. He loved hunting mice and bringing them home, sometimes not fully dead, which made Eliza almost faint a few times,” she smiled gently. “He was stubborn and jumped on my lap every time I was sad. And no matter how many times I put him away, asking him to leave me alone, he jumped back, until I finally gave in and allowed him to cheer me up.” 

She stopped for a moment, recalling the cat in her head. “I miss you. Your light might have faded away, but you will never be forgotten. Rest in peace in Rao’s light,” Kara said softly and she blew out the candle.

They moved to another candle.

“This one is for Ma’ya, my dragon,” Mon-El started. “She was the most annoying, mean and jealous creature in the entire universe.”

Kara raised her brows.

“It’s true! Have you ever seen a moping dragon? Facing a wall, growling every time you approached it? I lost count of how many times she smacked me with her tail. Every time I refused to feed her with her favorite grushka fruits, even though she knew she was going to get sick after eating them, she would always refuse to put the saddle on her, sometimes for days. Or when she sniffed a different dragon on me. Once she showed the Valerian’s ambassador's head into her mug after he called her an ugly, fat lizard.”

Kara’s eyes widened like saucers.

“I mean, he survived, not a big deal. She was not stupid, she just held his head in her mug for some time, drooling all over him, looking like that-” he made a face and Kara burst into laugh.” The Valerian’s delegation was having a collective panic attack and my people were running around like headless chickens, not knowing what to do. While I tried to calmly persuade her to spit him out. She did. And well, the Valerians signed all the contracts very quickly ,” he smiled at his memories. “Yeah, she was a big, ugly bitch, but no other dragon was as fast as her when she flew or as gracious. Flying with her was like… I never felt so free on Daxam… More than once she fished me out from the ocean, when I fell down. I miss you, Ma’ya. You hope for nothing. You fear nothing. You are free. Rest in peace, in Rao’s light.”

He blew out the candle.

They moved to another one.

“You had a dragon, your highness?” she asked a little teasingly, after they settled down.

“More like three. What? Ma’ya had reasons to be jealous, but thanks to that she wanted to prove she is the best in the next garata game and the other dragons were not a competition for her.”

Kara shook her head.

“This one is for Kenny-”

A human boy with a gentle heart who loved science, the starry night sky and preferred Star Trek over Star Wars. Who befriended an outcast when no one else would. 

His light might have faded away, but he was never to be forgotten. He rested in peace in Rao’s light.

One was for Vax and Illan, identical twin brothers, inseparable and and indistinguishable from each other, fans of strong liquids, cheesy erotic poetry and occasional public exhibitionsm, swimming in the fountains and running from the palace guards. Also, garata players and infamous pranksters who were not afraid to make fun of Mon-El’s royal ass, probably because they were too dumb to understand the consequences. 

Now, they hoped for nothing, they feared nothing. They were free and rested in peace, in Rao’s light.

One was for Thara, a girl with blue shining eyes, wavy blonde hair and smile that brightened every boring history lecture. Kara’s best friend who could predict her thoughts and didn’t let her fall asleep during their sleepovers when they talked about their future. A girl who set a laboratory on fire after a failed experiment and no one (beside Kara) knew that it was not an accident.

Her light might have faded away, but she was never to be forgotten. She rested in peace, in Rao’s light.

One was for Dar-En, the royal cook famous on the whole Daxam of her sharlotka pie and chopped kura’s livers, with a stare more deadly than queen Rhea’s and hand heavier than Lar Gand’s. An old hag fussing about everything - especially little useless princes who were under her feet and trying to steal cookies - a lady who could beat any royal guard with a dipper, masher, frying pan or a teaspoon without dropping a single drop of sweat. Who was banned from talking directly to the prince, but every time he came while she was cooking, narrated what she was doing, so he could listen and learn something. Who blushed once, when he kissed her cheek, thanking her silently for all what she had done for him. 

She hoped for nothing, she feared nothing. She was free and rested in peace, in Rao’s light.

One was for Astra, her mother’s twin who loved to confuse their parents due to their identical look. A fearless general and fighter, dedicated to protecting her planet. An aunt who taught Kara the names of the stars, planets and galaxies on countless nights they gazed at the starry skies. Who held Kara and sang her songs to calm her down when she was sick and her parents away. And for Non… who was a dickhead, but made Astra happy. 

Their light might have faded away, but they were never to be forgotten. They rested in peace in Rao’s light.

One was for Sal. Mon-El’s assigned guard since he was 12. His quiet, close-mouthed shadow following his steps. His friend, who could always find him, no matter where he hid after quarrels with his mother. His sworn brother and… so much more. Who was punished by Mon-E’ls parents for the prince’s every misbehavior. So Mon-El tried to behave and please them. And failed and tried again, but Sal never complained. Even when Mon-El stopped really talking to him, too afraid his parents would notice his attachment and send Sal away, like many more guards and servants before him. Who saved Mon-El in the end, before he could have said all that his soul was screaming. But he hoped… he hoped Sal knew. 

He hoped for nothing, he feared nothing. He was free and rested in peace, in Rao’s light.

One was for Zor-El, her father who sought her assistance in his lab and cherished her help. Who listened to her complaints about lectures and annoying classmates who didn’t treasure the beauty of science enough attentively with a gentle smile. Who kept the statue she made on his desk and named it Kir-El. Who took her to Starhaven and other planets. Who sometimes focused so much on his work that he forgot about meals, soshe would prepare him some snacks and he would eat everything, even if the food was a little burnt. 

His light might have faded away, but he was never to be forgotten. He rested in peace in Rao’s light.

One was for Bal-Seg. An old, grumpy hawk and pain in Mon-El’s royal ass. A strict teacher who never failed to drag him from his bed by pulling his ear, smack his head, sarcastically comment about his inappropriate behavior, lazy answers during classes, unsuitable (cringe worthy) bed partners. Who took Mon-El for trips outside the palace and to other planets, to show him a real life. Who held him tightly that one time, when Mon-El cried after what Rhea had done to one of his servants. The only person who believed that one day he would become a good king. The only person who believed he could be a better person. The only father Mon-El ever had.

He hoped for nothing, he feared nothing. He was free and rested in peace, in Rao’s light.

One was for Alura. The most influential judge of Krypton, wise and righteous… but with her own flaws. Maybe not the best woman that ever lived, but Kara could finally accept that and learn how to live with it. Her mom, who believed she had the heart of a hero. Who protected Kara in her dreams and did everything to save her. Who taught Kara how to read, how to love knowledge and seek for answers. Whose hand caressed Kara’s hair when she was upset. Who was Kara’s light her entire childhood.

Her light might have faded away, but she was never to be forgotten. She rested in peace in Rao’s light.

The line of candles led them to the last lit one. 

They sat in silence, lost in thoughts, with the candle between them, watching its dancing flame.

They thought about the people and creatures they lost. People who shaped them with their love, people who hardened them with their hate. Small gestures, big events, dreams and hopes, whispers of people who faded into black.

They reached for each other and grasped hands, linking their fingers.

Just like that, they both started to hum-

_ Who will sing me _

_ Into the death-sleep sling me _

_ When I walk the road to Rao _

_ And the tracks I tread _

_ Are cold, so cold _

They closed their eyes.

_ Cattle die, kinsmen die _

_ You yourself will also die _

_ I know one thing that never dies _

_ The reputation of those who died. _

They leaned over, gently resting their foreheads together. 

They hoped for so many things. 

For staying together for better and for worse. For moments full of love, laughter and happiness. For waking up together, watching shows on the couch, discovering new dishes, teasing each other mercilessly, fighting difficulties and bad guys hand in hand. For sharing the future. 

They feared so many things. 

Past and future mistakes that could haunt them. Enemies lurking in the shadows. Things that could keep them apart. Things that could drive them away. Their insecurities. Threats that could be hard to defeat. Loneliness.

But their lights were still burning, still strong, still together under Rao’s guidance.

They were still here, under Earth’s yellow sun. 

Their fingers linked, their foreheads touching, their gentle breaths caressing their faces. 

Bathing in the memories of people who loved them, while the song carried them away, to Krypton and Daxam shadows.

They were still here, together, and that was enough.

*

The candle burned until dawn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was always pissed off about how they... brushed the whole "losing your entire planet" trauma in the show, so here were are. 
> 
> LoneWulffe allowed me to borrow her Bal-Seg, because every time I imagine some kind of an older man who took care of young Mon-El I just see and hear him, from her Paradise in a Dream series (go and read, If you haven't).   
Hope you liked it :)
> 
> About Wardruna: Thye use of the oldest of Nordic instruments and poetic metres as well as lyrics written in Norwegian, Old Norse and Proto-Norse tongue. They are dedicated to creating musical renditions of Norse cultural and esoteric traditions, and make significant use of Nordic historical and traditional instruments. Translation (a little edited) of the song in this chap is not mine, and was taked from here genius. com/Wardruna-helvegen-english-translation-lyrics  
They are fucking AWE AND SOME, just saying.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, writing it is super fun, so if you have prompts for SHORT ONE SHOTS for this series, please feel free to send me them here or to my tumblr blog facepalming-since-chernobyl or akane171
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it :)


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